


Not quite apple pie...but enough

by iantosgal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 22:34:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iantosgal/pseuds/iantosgal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel have been kidnapped and are both tortured in different ways. Feelings happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not quite apple pie...but enough

Dean smiled, watching Castiel potter around the garden. It was a nice picture, Castiel bent over pulling up a few weeds, giving Dean a very pleasant view of his ass. He was dressed in jeans and a vest top, skin shining with sweat as he worked under the hot sun. Castiel stood and wiped his brow, turning to face Dean and giving him one of those far too rare smiles.

Castiel walked towards him, still smiling, and Dean lost himself in those beautiful blues.

He noticed immediately when they dimmed, the light seeming to melt away leaving a look of pain and fear.

“Dean.”

Dean blinked.

His surroundings changed immediately. He was back in the dark room, with the coppery smell of blood filling his nostrils and the Grinning Man standing before him. Dean let his head hang forwards.

“…Dean…” His name was more of a groan this time and Dean looked up.

The Grinning Man moved out of the way and Dean fought back tears for what felt like the hundredth time since they were captured.

Castiel was strung up, one hook through each shoulder, so reminiscent of how Dean had been trussed up in Hell that it made Dean’s stomach churn. There was blood all over Castiel’s chest, seeping down from the hooks in his shoulders, from the intricate patterns that had been carved into the flesh of his torso and even trickling down from his bludgeoned face.

“We’ve been through this Dean,” the Grinning Man said. “all you have to do is surrender to me and all that I’ve shown you will come true. A nice home with that wonderful person you see in those dreams. Shh shh! Our secret!” he laughed, a finger pressed to his stupid grinning lips, eyes wide and laughing as he motioned toward Castiel with a slight nod of his head.

He snapped his fingers.

Castiel kicked open the door, bags of shopping in his arms and half a sandwich in his mouth. Dean laughed.

“Need a hand?”

Castiel mumbled something unintelligible through the bread and Dean laughed again, crossing the room and taking one of the bags.

They walked through to the kitchen and began to unpack, wittering on about unimportant things. Castiel smiled and Dean smiled and they were happy. The dog ran into the kitchen and jumped up at Dean who stroked it’s head and got it some food.

He turned round to find Castiel had stopped dead in the middle of the room.

“Cas?”

Castiel screamed.

Dean blinked and felt his body jolt.

Castiel was still screaming.

Dean stopped holding back the tears and let them fall silently down his face as he watched the Grinning Man slash Castiel’s own weapon across his arm, again and again, adding to his work of art that spread across the canvas of Castiel’s skin.

Castiel went silent, his head flopping forward onto his chest and Dean held his breath. Castiel was still for three of Dean’s frantic heartbeats and then he choked a breath and lifted his head.

Dean didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. He was glad Castiel was still hanging on, proud of him for staying strong, but the longer Castiel stayed awake the more the Grinning Man was going make him suffer.

Maybe Dean should just surrender.

No, if he did that Castiel would never forgive him. Castiel was being strong, Dean would be too.

But it was hard to stay strong when the man he secretly loved was bloody and half dead. That knife could kill angels and Dean didn’t know what he would do if Castiel died.

“Cas,” he said, his voice shaking. “stay with me, ya hear? Don’t you die on me.”

The Grinning Man laughed and Dean snarled at him. If he wasn’t bound to this fucking chair he’d have killed him already…if he knew how.

To be honest he wasn’t even sure how they got into this. He remembered walking in to the old house, Castiel right behind him, and then he heard Castiel shout out and felt something hit him, hard, in the head. Everything was a bit hazy after that, conflicting images of Castiel filling his vision, bloody and suffering mixed with smiling, light-hearted and eyes shining full of love, for him, for Dean.

He wanted that. But if he gave in, it’s not what he’d get. Not really. He wanted Castiel, it was true. He loved the angel more than he cared to admit but he wasn’t stupid. The only thing the Grinning Man could give him was an illusion.

And Dean only wanted the real thing.

So Dean sucked it up and tried to force his bonds one last time.

The knife came down quick and Castiel screamed again, as the blade dragged down his shoulder, bypassing his neck by millimetres.

There was a sudden bang and Dean’s eyes swung in the direction of the door. Another bang and the door fell away, revelling the towering silhouette of his brother. Dean had never been so pleased to see Sam in his life.

Sam ran towards the Grinning Man, plunging a weird, bronze, sword like weapon into the guys chest. He chanted a passage in Latin that Dean didn’t really understand and the Grinning Man screamed, loud and feral, before the blade began to shine. The light grew in intensity and then changed into the flickering light of flames as the man began to burn. Flames danced up his body, along his arms and Dean fleetingly thought that he looked like a Guy on bonfire night. Which was weird, because he wasn’t British, he‘d never really celebrated the holiday…his mind was weird.

Then there was nothing. No body and no flames.

Sam ran towards Dean and began to untie his hands.

“You ok? Where’s Cas?”

Sam had run right passed the angel and not seen him. He was more focussed on taking down the threat and now Castiel was behind him.

“Just get me down,” Dean said.

Sam quirked his eyebrows but quickly released his brother. He watched Dean walk away and as he turned, finally, he saw Castiel.

“Holy shit!” Sam exclaimed.

Dean tenderly began to untie the ropes holding Castiel’s wrist and slipped an arm around his waist. Sam untied the angel’s other hand and looked at Dean.

“You’re gonna have to pull the hook out,” Dean said, his trembling voice betraying the forced, confident visage.

Sam swallowed.

“You got him?” he asked.

Dean nodded and tightened his arms around Castiel. Sam reached up, took a deep breath and in one quick movement pulled the hook quickly from Castiel’s right shoulder.

The angel, who had seemed to be unconscious, yelled in agony and the Winchester brothers flinched.

“I’m sorry, Cas,” Sam half whispered, reaching for the other hook. He yanked it out, not giving the angel time to think and cringed when his friend cried out again.

Castiel was almost limp in Dean’s arms as he lowered the angel to the floor.

“Where’s the car?” he asked Sam, his eyes never leaving the prone figure in his arms.

“Just outside, I’ll bring it right round to the door.” Without another word, Sam ran from the room, leaving Dean alone with an armful of injured angel.

He suddenly noticed that silent tears were running down Castiel’s face and without conscious thought, he reached up and gently wiped the salty tears away.

“It’s gonna be ok. I promise,” he whispered.

Perhaps his tried, crazy mind was playing tricks on him but he could have sworn, for a fraction of a second before the angel lost consciousness, that Castiel gave him a weak smile.

*~*~*~*

A knock o the door surprised Bobby. He was even more surprised when he opened it to find Sam standing on his doorstep.

“What are you knocking for?” he asked brusquely.

Sam frowned.

“Well, it’s polite.”

“You never do it normally.”

“Yeah, well, I have a favour to ask.”

“When do you not? And what has this got to do with you knocking? And why the hell are we still on the doorstep?”

“Well, we just need a bed for a while.”

“Ok.” Bobby looked up at the tall Winchester like he was an idiot. “What the hell is going on?”

“He insisted we ask.”

“Who did? Boy, you’re not making any sense.”

Sam stood aside and Bobby’s face dropped as he saw Dean stood by the Impala, barley keeping a very bloody and weak Castiel on his feet.

“Jesus H. Christ! Get him inside!” Bobby commanded. “Damn fool angel!”

Sam rushed back and together he and Dean managed to get Castiel into Bobby’s and down onto the bed in the living room-come-library.

To be honest, the angel had made little sense since he woke up in the back of the car. His normal disregard for personal space seemed to have gone out of the window and he had all but demanded that they ask Bobby if it was ok. He’d mumbled a lot of stuff that they didn’t understand and anything they did recognise didn’t come out in a way that made sense.

It worried them. All of it. There hadn’t been a patented Cas glare the entire journey to Bobby’s, which Dean found particularly disturbing.

Once he was settled on the bed, Dean set about getting stuff together to clean his wounds.

Sam just watched as his brother rolled up his sleeves, filled a bowl with warm water and went upstairs to find a clean cloth. He shared a look with Bobby and the two of them moved through the dining room with a few handfuls of books so that could see if they could find anything about angel wounds. They wouldn’t and they knew it, but it was really just an excuse to give Dean and Castiel some space.

Sam and Bobby weren’t stupid. They had guessed long ago how Dean felt about the angel but sometimes they weren’t sure who was worse at showing their emotions. Dean, a human who would rather go for a sarcastic cover than digress into a ‘chick flick moment’, or Castiel, an angel who had no apparent understanding of human emotions.

Since Castiel had come into their lives, Sam and Bobby had noticed that Dean seemed to be more relaxed, more open when the angel was around. And slowly, over time, Castiel had began to understand certain emotions. He certainly seemed to feel something towards Dean. They assumed that the pair just needed time. But perhaps they just needed a kick up the ass to admit how they felt.

*~*~*~*

Dean cleaned Castiel’s wounds carefully, not missing the frequent winces that crossed the angel’s beautiful features as he worked. He was pleased to see that even in his weakened state, Castiel had been able at least heal the wounds through his shoulders. The only problem was that it had used all his remaining energy and so every other wound needed attending to.

Dean carefully sewed up the gash on Castiel’s neck. It was the last one he had to do and then he could let his friend rest. Dean could grab a few hours too, he was tired as hell. Having some jackass messing around with your mind was unsettling and really quite tiring.

Just as he finished up, Castiel’s eyes flickered open. In the hours Dean had spent tending to his wounds, Castiel had drifted in and out of consciousness, but now his eyes opened more fully and he looked into Dean’s eyes.

Dean was suddenly aware they were extremely close. So close, he could fell Castiel’s breath dancing across his skin. He swallowed.

“What did you see?” Castiel’s voice was barely a croak and Dean grabbed him a glass of water, helping the angel up so that he could sip the liquid. He coughed and asked his question again. “What did he show you?”

Dean looked away.

“He showed me a bit of the old apple pie life with someone I really care about. I’m talking house, dog, laughter,” he looked into Castiel’s eyes, “love. It was nice.”

“Who was it with?”

Dean coughed.

“Just someone.”

“Who?”

“It’s private.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah…”

There was a moment of silence.

“Was it Bobby?”

“What?!” Dean would have laughed if he wasn’t so taken aback.

“You are very close. You love him”

“Yeah, uh, yes in a paternal way. He’s like a father to me. I, I do not think of him in that way.”

“Then who?”

“Why are you so interested?”

“Why are you so secretive?”

Dean sighed and looked away from the intense blue gaze.

“It was you,” he whispered.

“I‘m sorry? I didn’t get that”

Dean looked back into the startling blue orbs and took a deep breath.

“It was you,” he repeated, louder.

Castiel looked at him for a few moments and as the silence stretched, Dean began to feel uncomfortable and a little scared.

Finally, Castiel reached up and cupped Dean’s face gently.

“That’s good.”

“It is?” Dean asked after he recovered from the shock Castiel’s words had triggered.

“Yes. It is.”

“O-ok.”

Castiel’s hand moved to the back of Dean’s neck and pulled him down, until their lips were no more than a hair’s breadth apart.

“Cas…”

Castiel pulled Dean closer to him until their lips brushed together. It was gentle and filled with sweet promises that made Dean’s heart soar. Their lips pressed more firmly together and Dean flicked out a tongue, begging entrance. Castiel opened his lips and their tongues met. To Dean, it was like his first kiss all other again, something new and exciting. Something he would definitely want to do again.

After a while Castiel pulled back, resting his forehead against Dean’s.

“I’m not sure it’s quite what you refer to as an ‘apple pie life’, but I will give you what I can.”

For Dean, that was more than enough. He kissed the angel, his angel tenderly and softly once more before sitting back and carding his fingers through the angel’s unruly hair.

“You should get some rest.”

A soft snuffle was his only answer and he looked down at Castiel to find he was already sleeping, long eyelashes casting soft shadows under his eyes. Dean kissed Castiel on the temple and then crept away, turning at the door to smile at the sleeping form.

Dean had always known he would never have the apple pie life they talked about, he would never do the whole 2.4 children thing and he was a little surprised that he didn’t care anymore.

He had Cas. That was enough.


End file.
